


Five Times Esca Watches Marcus Masturbating (And One Time He Lends A Hand)

by Magnetism_bind



Category: The Eagle | Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-20
Updated: 2012-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-31 12:18:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Esca watches Marcus masturbating. Would prefer book/movie!verse instead of AU. partially inspired by this pic of Jamie peaking around a door: http://tinypic.com/view.php?pic=10z70gz&s=7</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Esca Watches Marcus Masturbating (And One Time He Lends A Hand)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt at the_eagle_kink.

1.

The first time Esca catches Marcus touching himself, the Roman is half asleep. Esca stops dead in the doorway in surprise, his bare feet making no noise on the cool stone floor. He watches, half in disgust, half in pity, as the wounded Roman lies there, his eyes closed as his hand strokes tiredly at his cock.

Marcus has managed to pull his tunic up to his hips revealing his muscled thighs. They’re still tanned from the soldiering days, even though it’s been many days since he was out in the sun. His cock is thick. It fits the rest of the Roman’s body amply. Somehow, Esca is not surprised at the length of it.

He leans against the doorway, breath half caught in his mouth as Marcus arches up slightly, pressing his thumb over the head. The Roman makes barely a sound when he spills over his own hand, just a soft, contented sigh. Then he drifts back to sleep.

Esca is relieved that the Roman chooses to tend this need himself. He’s known masters who make their slaves perform such duties, these and far worse. Marcus has never asked this of him. _Yet_ , Esca reminds himself, _yet_. It is too early to tell what the young master will require of him.

He goes about his duties silently. Yet, from time to time he can't help glancing at the bed, watching Marcus sleep on, still half uncovered, his cock now soft against his thigh.

 

2.

The second time is in the bath house. Marcus sends Esca back to his room, ostensibly to tidy it…not that it is terribly unclean, but Esca doesn’t particularly care if the reason is real. He’s glad to have a moment alone.

So when Stephanos stops him in the corridor, he’s not pleased to be sent back to Marcus with a pitcher of wine, that the young master might be refreshed while he bathes. Stephanos cuffs him slightly as he catches sight of Esca’s sullen expression.

“You should be grateful of your place here.” He scolds before turning back to the kitchen.

Esca is not grateful. He finds the thought impossible to fathom. His mouth is set in a tight, unhappy line when he returns to the bath house.

He halts as he enters the bath house, frozen by the sight he discovers. Marcus is leaning back against the rim of the bath, his head thrown back, his eyes closed, biting his lower lip in concentration. His lower half is under the water, but from the motion of his arm, there’s no denying what he’s doing.

Esca stands there, watching as Marcus shudders, his hand straining as he pleasures himself. Then, before he can move, Marcus opens his eyes, blinking as he recovers from his climax.

He stares at Esca with half-lidded eyes. “I sent you to my chamber.” He sits up hastily, water running down his torso.

“Stephanos sent this.” Esca held out the tray. The water is now only to Marcus’s belly, a thin trail of damp pale hair that leads down to his crotch, covered only by the water. Esca looks away.

Marcus jerks his head toward the side table. “There.” Esca sets the tray down, and Marcus looks at him expectantly. “Well?”

After a moment, Esca realizes the Roman wants him to pour the wine for him. He does so, silently handing it to Marcus. His fingers brush only the tip of Marcus’s own, yet they burn as though he’d been the one holding the Roman’s cock. Esca retreats away from the bath as Marcus drinks in silence.

He wonders if Marcus will punish him for watching him, perhaps even make Esca service him from now on.

Marcus does neither. He drinks his wine and ignores Esca for the most part.

Esca stands there, hands clasped behind his back, waiting for something…he knows not what.

 

3.

The third time Marcus has had too much wine. He’s sitting in his room, drinking and being maudlin. Esca has fetched him two more carafes already. He stands to one side, disapproving while Marcus continues to drink.

“Here, have some.” Marcus pushes the carafe across the table toward him.

Esca shakes his head.

“Go on.” Marcus pushes it further, and Esca barely catches it as it falls off the table. The wine splatters on his face and tunic.

Marcus half laughs, pushing himself out of his chair. “I have to piss.” He walks somewhat unsteadily over to the basin in the corner.

Esca wipes the wine from his face. It’s sour and he hates the smell of Roman wine, as he hates all things Roman. He feels as though he’s been marked, and he doesn’t take kindly to it.

Yet, he takes a sip because his stomach is empty and his heart is weary and homesick. He tries not to watch as Marcus raises his tunic. The Roman braces himself against the wall with one hand, tugging at his cock with the other.

It takes Esca a moment to realize he’s not pissing. He’s stroking himself off. Esca can hear the soft bitten off groans as Marcus works his cock, the brush of his fingers on his skin. Esca takes another, longer gulp of wine. It goes straight to his belly, then lower, the heat pooling in his groin as he listens to Marcus.

He wonders if the Roman thinks he is inferior. Obviously, he does, because he keeps Britons as slaves…but he can’t help but think that Marcus is somehow unaware of him, as he does this. That Esca isn’t even there, in his mind. True, the Roman had had more wine. It was unlikely that he was aware of much. Even so, Esca was insulted.

Marcus is speeding up now, his breath coming faster and faster as he thrusts into his own fist. Esca drinks more wine, and watches the strain of Marcus’s leg muscles as he stands, his hips canting, his thighs trembling. He wonders what it would be like to touch that skin. Not as a slave. He knows that this will never happen. Still, it doesn’t hurt to dream.

“Ah.” Marcus leans against the wall. He glances over his shoulder. Esca pauses, the wine halfway to his lips.

“See, it’s not that bad.” Marcus smirks at him.

“I’ve tasted worse.” Esca admits grudgingly. He’s rewarded by a bright smile that leaves him breathless. Marcus shifts to lean with his back against the wall.

“I think…” He murmurs. “I would like to taste you.”

His eyes are blurred, and Esca stares at him, as Marcus shakes his head to clear it. “You…your wine. Since you say it’s so good.” He lurches away from the wall and stumbles.

Esca goes to him, propping him up with his shoulder. Marcus is a loose limbed mass, draping himself over Esca’s body. He’s pliable enough, like a large warm dog. Esca maneuvers him over to the bed, and pushes him back until he’s halfway on it.

“This. Off.” Marcus tugs at his tunic.

Esca hesitates, then slides his hands up to pull the tunic over Marcus’s body. He leans forward as Marcus falls backward across the bed. Esca’s half crouched over him, and he’s all too aware of the Roman’s cock. Finally he gets the tunic all the way off and sits back.

Marcus looks up at him lazily. “Now, you.”

“What?” Esca hopes he doesn’t man what he thinks Marcus means.

“Off.” Marcus waves his hand.

Slowly, Esca pulls his tunic off. The Roman has never seen him bare before…and Marcus lolls back on the bed, watching him. Then Esca waits, his gut churning uneasily.

Marcus rolls over, making space on his the bed. “Come.”

Esca climbs onto the bed besides him. Once he lays down alongside Marcus, the Roman wraps his arms around him loosely, resting his head against Esca’s hair. Esca feels trapped and warm and Marcus is so close…he could reach behind him and have the man’s throat beneath his hands in an instant.

Or he could touch Marcus’s hip, tracing one of the many scars that cover the Roman’s legs…this is what he does.

In the morning Marcus wakes with a groan. “My head.”

Esca rolls off the bed and goes to pour water for him. Marcus accepts it gratefully. He drinks and then seems to focus on Esca, and the fact that he standing naked before him.

“You…” Marcus sits up, his voice rough all the wine he drank. “slept beside me last night?”

“Yes.” Esca mutters. He wants to cover himself. Yet, he’s not ashamed of his body. He knows it well. The tattoo on his arm he received when he became a man in the eyes of his tribe. The scar on his hip from his first hunt…his manhood, full and curved slightly. He stands tall beneath Marcus’s gaze.

“Why?”

That, Esca is not expecting. “You told me to.”

Marcus rubs blearily at his eye. “Did I?”

“I would not have presumed.” Esca says stiffly.

“Of course not.” Marcus yawns, scratching his belly. “Why did you stay?”

“What?”

“After I fell asleep…why did you stay?”

“You had your arms around me.” Esca tells him bluntly.

“Ah.” Marcus looks slightly embarrassed at that. “I…”

“You were drunk.” Esca reaches for his tunic. He’s had enough. Marcus moves swiftly for a man still recovering. His hand closes on Esca’s wrist as he starts to dress.

“I was not drunk.”

“It looked that way.” Esca can’t stop himself.

Marcus’s hand tightens on his wrist. “You don’t know anything.” He releases Esca and moves to the wash basin.

“I know that you think you’re useless. That your life holds nothing now that you are no longer a soldier.” Esca doesn’t know what possessed him to speak so. The Roman will have him flogged at best…if not sold straight back to the slavers.

Marcus spins, staring at him incredulously. “What do you know?” He shouts. “You’re just a slave. Get out of my sight.”

Esca goes. He pauses, briefly at the door, looking back. Marcus is standing there in the middle of the room. Naked, and angry…he touches the scar on his chin and he sighs…a frustrated, hopeless sound.

Esca leaves.

 

4.

The fourth time is after a hunt. Once Marcus has recovered more, they ride almost every day. Marcus is eager to push his body back into its former vigor.

They’re chasing a stage across the low fields, but the creature is too nimble for them. It flees gracefully through the trees. Marcus reins his horse in, his face ruddy and smiling.

“It was a good chase.” He looks around. “Let's stop here.”

Esca had expected him to be displeased with losing the stage, but for once Marcus is seemingly content with the exhilaration of the hunt. Once he's dismounted, Marcus stretches, his shoulders rippling with the motion. Esca’s eyes are drawn to the man's muscles. The Roman is still a powerful man, despite his damaged leg. Marcus shifts his stance and Esca’s gaze goes to his legs…there, the tunic is tented slightly. He raises his eyes to see Marcus watching him.

“What, you’ve never been aroused by a hunt?” It’s almost a challenge.

Esca shrugs. “Not for some time.” It has been years since he hunted on his own, for the chase, for the thrill…for anything other than his master's whim. He touches his tattoo reflectively.

Marcus eyes him curiously. “Does nothing arouse you, Esca?” That _is_ practically a taunt, but Esca is distracted by hearing his name. It still sounds strange on the Roman’s tongue.

“Nothing of Rome.” Esca responds.

Marcus flushes. Without a word, he turns away. Esca kneels to tighten his sandal, which had loosened during the ride. He feels Marcus turning back and he looks up.

Marcus’s eyes are on him, but his hand is inside his tunic drawing out his cock. Esca stares, fascinated as Marcus strokes his cock there in the forest glade. The motion is hypnotic. The Roman’s face is tense, his breath short. Esca can't help wondering what it would be like to bite those lips.

Marcus is impressive from any angle, but he’s truly imposing from this one. Esca starts to rise.

Marcus just jerks his head. “Down.”

Esca obeys, resenting the order. Yet, clearly Marcus wants him to watch, so he obeys. He can’t help himself.

It doesn’t take Marcus long, tightening his grip around himself, finishing himself off with a few rough tugs.

And Esca stiffens as the Roman spills over his face. The come hits his cheeks, his mouth, chin. Esca’s stunned. He can’t think, only stare dazedly up at Marcus.

To his credit, Marcus looks chagrined He tucks himself away, looking down at Esca.

“Clean yourself off before you return to the house,” is all he says.

Esca watches Marcus ride away before he turns and heads for the river. There, he strips off his tunic and dives in. The water closes over his head with a rush. Esca scrubs at his skin until he feels raw. More than ever, he feels marked by Rome.

Afterward he lies on the bank to dry. He hears Marcus’s voice daying his name again and again... He doesn’t return to the house until it’s almost dark.

Stephanos reprimands him as soon as he passes through the household arch. He doesn’t stop scolding until Marcus commands him to.  
“Esca had my permission to stay out.” he says.

Stephanos looks surprised, but shrugs, accepting the master’s word as a good slave always does.

Esca serves Marcus silently that evening, not meeting his gaze even though he feels Marcus watching him. At last he can bear it no longer, and he raises his eyes to meet the Roman’s. he'd prepared himself to face the man's smirking triumph, yet Esca is surprised by what he finds.

It’s not disgust, not triumph…no. It’s desire, mixed with shame. This time it’s Marcus who drops his gaze first.

 

5.

Marcus is invited to attend dinner at the house of Lucretius Quintus, an acquaintance of his uncle. Aquila insists that he attends, that it will do him good.

It’s clear the Roman has no desire to go out among company, but he goes, and he takes Esca with him.

It’s _dull_. That’s Esca’s first thought. Porcius, the son of Quintus, (a name that rather suits him, in Esca’s personal opinion) is a conceited young ass. He talks utter tripe on the state of the empire as the evening progresses and Esca can tell that Marcus has a hard time keeping his temper out of courtesy. However, it isn’t until young Quintus turns his attention to Esca that the Briton realizes how angry Marcus truly is.

“Your slave is…” Porcius eyes Esca critically. “on the small side.”

“He serves his purpose well enough.”

 _And what is that?_ Esca asks him silently. Naturally, Marcus doesn’t answer.

“Yes, I suppose that comes in handy with some duties,” Porcius agrees. “Such as when he’s on his knees, sucking your cock.”

Esca dimly feels this is an insult. But his body has turned to granite, and he can barely rouse the ire necessary to be angry over the remark. It doesn’t matter what this idiotic young roman thinks of him. It doesn’t touch him.

Marcus, however, narrows his eyes coolly. “Why use a slave when you can take care of a simple need easily yourself?” He says shortly.

Porcius snorts. “I’m far too lazy. Besides, that’s what they’re for.” His eyes go to Esca again. “I bet this one has a good mouth on him.”

“Then you don’t know how to use your own hand.” Marcus remarks flatly.

That draws Porcius’s attention. He looks from the Briton to Marcus with curiosity. “What?”

Marcus slides his tunic up his thighs just enough to reveal the tip of his cock.

Esca knows they are in an alcove of the room, no one can see…still, he wonders whether this will draw anyone’s attention. Marcus spits in his palm, sliding his hand down along under his shaft.

It’s a show, one designed to distract and it serves its purpose. Porcius has forgotten about Esca, as he watches Marcus open-mouthed. Esca watches Marcus’s face, studying him. That the Roman would subject himself to this…to, _what_ , protect Esca? It’s confusing. Marcus’s eyes only look his way once and then the Roman looks away.

When Marcus finishes, he makes barely any sound at all.

“Impressive.”

Marcus shrugs. “Soldier’s training.” He starts to wipe his hand on his tunic when Esca catches it between his fingers.

Marcus looks up startled. Slowly, Esca raises Marcus's hand to his mouth. He licks deliberately along Marcus’s palm, cleaning the come from the Roman’s skin. Flicking his tongue over the center, he makes sure the palm is clean before he sucks Marcus’s forefinger into his mouth, dragging his tongue over it.

Marcus sucks in his breath, eyes focused on Esca as the Briton as he does the same with each finger. Then, he lowers Marcus’s hand and steps back to his place.

“He serves his purpose well indeed.” Porcius comments.

Marcus simply nods, reaching for his wine. He keeps his right hand curled against his thigh for the rest of the evening.

 

On the way back to the villa, Marcus is silent. Esca wonders if he was too forward...perhaps he has displeased Marcus. Then he berates himself for even caring what the Roman thinks. It shouldn’t matter. But it does.

As Esca goes about his evening duties, Marcus readies himself for bed. When he’s finished, Esca waits for Marcus to dismiss him. He's ready for this night to be over.

Marcus speaks at last. “What you did…” Marcus glances at him. “surprised me.”

Esca’s tongue feels heavy all of a sudden. He can't think of anything to say.

“Why did you do that?” Marcus asks.

“I...think it was your implication that I held no talent with my mouth.”

Marcus’s eyebrows rise incredulously. “You were insulted?”

Esca shrugs self-consciously. He can’t explain it.

“Well…” Marcus clears his throat, looking at him now with a mixture of amusement and something Esca can’t figure out… “I had no wish to insult you.”

Esca doesn’t know what to make of that. He hopes Marcus will dismiss him, freeing him from this awkward conversation before it can go any further.

“I know you have many skills.” Marcus adds, sinking down on the bed.

As much as he wishes to escape, Esca can’t resist that. “So you think I most likely suck cock rather well, then?”

Marcus flushes deeply. “I…” He glares at Esca coolly. “I’ve never given it much thought.”

 _Liar,_ Esca thinks to himself. It’s almost amiable.

“You can go.” Marcus says, dragging the coverlet over himself, and turning his back.

“Goodnight.” Esca murmurs.

 

1.

The first time -

Esca can barely breathe. The Roman who had led his men to their deaths in the mist…Marcus’s father.

He feels as though Marcus has but to look at his face and he will know everything, that Esca was weaned on these tales…that he has spent the course of his life with them woven through his days. The glint of the eagle as it passed through the trees. The red crests of the Romans, darkened with blood. The true soldiers had died…only the deserters remained to live with their fear and their shame.

Yet somehow, Marcus remains oblivious. He is impatient to depart, impatient to begin this journey. He lies awake on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

It’s late, but he doesn’t sleep. He simply lies there.

Esca sits in the corner with his back against the wall. He’s still and silent, and it’s clear Marcus has forgotten he’s even there. He should go to his own pallet, but he knows he will be unable to sleep. Tomorrow waits…

To go north once more… the thought is almost too much to bear. Esca leans his head against the stone.

The slight movement rouses Marcus to notice him once more.

“Wine.” He murmurs.

Esca pushes himself to his feet. The pitcher on the table is empty, so he takes it down to the darkened kitchens and pours more cool, sweet wine into it from the large earthen jar that stands in the kitchen alcove. For a few moments he stood there, wishing…and then he carried the wine back to the room.

Marcus is lying on his back, one arm behind his head. His other hand is at his cock. Esca steps into the room and Marcus’s hand stills. He turns his head slightly, watching Esca as the Briton pours him wine and brings it over to him.

Esca offers the wine silently. He doesn’t mean to stare; yet he can’t look away. Marcus’s shaft is hard against his thigh. He lifts his hand to take the wine from Esca.

“You should sleep. We’ll be starting early tomorrow.”

“So should you.” Esca tells him. He still can’t believe Marcus is planning this. It’s a foolish beyond measure…but he doesn’t want to think about that right now. He doesn’t know what the journey ahead will hold for them. He knows it will be dangerous…and he cannot ease the way for Marcus. But this, this, he can ease.

He sits beside Marcus, sliding his hand up Marcus’s thigh.

“What’re you doing?” Marcus’s hand catches his wrist before Esca can reach his cock.

“My duty.” Esca says matter-of-factly, his lips curving upward before he can catch himself.

“I didn’t tell you to.” Marcus watches him, confused by this behavior, but more so by the smile.

“No.” Esca agrees. “You didn’t.” It’s a test. He wants Marcus to realize how it will be, once they’re beyond the reach of Rome. So that when Esca does, whatever he knows he will have to eventually…it will not come as a surprise. Still, he knows somehow that the Roman doesn’t think this way. Marcus will always be surprised when the world turns differently than he expected it to.

Esca waits.

Marcus releases his wrist. “Go on then.” He settles back, arms behind his head. The wine, forgotten on the stool beside the bed.

Esca traces the length of his cock with his fingers, feeling the skin tenderly. He dips underneath the shaft to lightly cup Marcus’s balls. The Roman’s thighs are tense, and abruptly, Esca decides. He climbs onto the bed and settles between the Roman’s legs.

Marcus exhales softly as Esca wraps his hand around him. The angle is awkward, but Esca secretly enjoys the fact that he can see Marcus’s face, that he knows exactly how much this is effecting the Roman, how he’s struggling not to cry out as the Briton strokes him. Marcus’s cock is warm in his palm. Esca likes the weight of it as he works it rhythmically.

“Esca.” Marcus breathes huskily.

Esca looks up at him through his eyelashes. The Roman is just a man…helpless beneath his hand. And something makes him slow his hand, so that he’s dragging out the pleasure, making Marcus last as long as possible. Until he can take it no longer, and he gasps. “ _Esca.”_

Marcus thrusts tightly between his fingers as Esca milks him of every last drop. Then his hips still, and he lies there, breathless and spent beneath his slave.

Esca wipes his hand methodically on the coverlet. Marcus gazes up at him, his expression almost tender.

“Here…” He shifts slightly, and Esca gives in. He lies beside the Roman, waiting. It doesn’t take long for Marcus’s hand to slide up his thigh, simply to rest there on his hip.

“Nothing of Rome, eh?” Marcus breathes in his ear, flicking his thumb over Esca’s cock where it’s straining against his tunic.

And Esca buries the chuckle that wants to escape his lips. “No.”

Marcus snorts, and kisses his earlobe. His hand lingers, and Esca move his hip subtly, so that Marcus’s hand rests on him. Slowly, tentatively the Roman strokes him and Esca buries his face in his arm when he comes. Marcus’s hand upon him, Marcus’s warmth against his back. Marcus’s lips at the back of his neck.

Tomorrow, the journey north awaits them. Tonight, Esca is content.


End file.
